I have moved 8 times, 9 times since I was 18.
Now make lucky number 10.
Each time has gotten a little more complicated. More stuff, boxes, storage units, stairs, multiple floors, across town, across the state.
It’s happening again.
Michael and I are moving… like I mean we are in the midst of the tornado that actually is our house. We are packing up our first house (rental!) and moving again. We haven’t even been here for two years but its been the longest I’ve been some place since I went to college.
Last time there was a moving truck and professional movers. It was awesome.
This time its us, an assortment of cars, and a trailer here and there.
I HATE TAPING BOXES.
Hopefully this will be the last time that we move for a long while. Its for my career and Michael will be able to commute (although it’d be a long commute) to wherever he finds something.
We will make it.
Until then, its a whirlwind of “no hassle” tape, frito lay boxes (its all about who you know), lost markers, and frustration.
Did I mention we are moving without a place to move to? The plan at this point is just to get everything out of this house and into a storage unit so we can be in the same place.
We suck at doing long distance.
I guess I should get back to packing.
At least we have some of the boxes from last time.